


Recognition

by lionofwrath



Category: Horus Heresy - Various Authors, Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Animal Abuse, Blood and Gore, Child Abuse, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 23:16:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5685274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionofwrath/pseuds/lionofwrath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three times Mortarion saves dogs and remembers what it was like to be hurt and helpless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recognition

Mortarion isn’t sure why he stops as he passes the collapsing building, a smell maybe or a sound he can’t place. The Death Guard following him stop as well and he doesn’t have to see their faces to sense their confusion. He ignores them, ducking through the ruined door into the burned out room beyond it, searching for anything out of place. Nothing catches his notice at first, then he spies a slight movement in a corner.

There’s an animal lying in the rubble, a dog, struggling to breathe through a muzzle frothed with blood, a hole through its side big enough that he can see organs pulsing wetly. Part of him is moved to a kind of pity by its suffering and he kneels beside it, intending to put it out of its misery. As he reaches out towards the dog it bares its teeth at him, growling in warning even though it can barely breath, clinging to life despite its injuries. Mortarion feels something inside him wrench in sympathy and withdraws his hand, calling an apothecary over.

The man kneels beside him, hesitant. ‘I don’t think it will survive, my lord.’

Mortarion watches the animal fight for breath, the fierceness in its eyes, and knows he’s wrong.

 

_The boy could barely breathe, the few gulps of poisonous air he managed to take sending fresh agony through his ravaged lungs. He couldn't even cough to clear his mouth of blood, it dribbled thickly over his lips, dripping down his chin. His arms wrapped tight around his chest, trying to hold the cut skin together until he healed, the pressure against his broken ribs only hurting him more. He sucked in another harsh breath, the movement forcing more blood to flow down his belly, hot and wet, pooling under him. Tears ran down his cheeks, mixed with blood, and he wanted to scream from the pain, choking on his own sobs instead._

 

There’s a farm on the outskirts of the town the Death Guard landed near. Mortarion likes the couple who run it, they remind him of all the good parts of Barbarus and despite their obvious nervousness they’re genuinely friendly towards him. They also have several dogs, and the women tell him with pride that many of them were rescued from owners who mistreated them.

‘Except for him.’ One of the women points at a cage.

The creature in it is huge and scarred and Mortarion turns on her in sudden fury.

She cringes under his glare as she tries to explain. ‘He’s from the dog-fighting pits. His master abused him to make him vicious.’ She shakes her head sadly. ‘We’ve had no success in rehabilitating him, he’s been hurt too badly, he’s too violent.’

‘I’ll take him.’ Mortarion says, surprised at the kindness in his own voice.

 

_The boy was confronted by a monstrously large creature, it swiped at him faster than he expected and its claws tore a chunk of flesh from his side. He ignored the pain, he had been hurt worse before, his father had taken great pleasure in beating him into an efficient weapon of war. He swung his blade at it, dodging the next blow it aimed at him. It was truly a monster, an amalgamation of flesh created by witchcraft, and he felt a terrible kinship with it for a moment. He was a superior monster though and he finally brought it down, stabbing it through an eye until it stilled. Panting at the exertion, he pressed a hand to his wound to stem the flow of blood and waited for them to come and take him from the battlefield._

 

The dwelling is unremarkable, Mortarion barely gives it a second glance until a dog starts barking at the Death Guard. It’s skinny and half-feral, chained to a post in the yard by a vicious looking chain.

A man comes out, swearing at the dog as it growls and tries to bite its owner. ‘I’m sorry, my lords. Fucking thing.’ He levels a kick at it to shut it up, the blow hitting it hard in the side, the sound of its ribs snapping echoing in the air like a bolter shot and Mortarion’s vision goes red.

He doesn’t even realise he’s moving until his hand wraps around the man’s throat, lifting him off the ground. Fingernails scrabble uselessly against his armoured wrist and Mortarion squeezes harder, watching with detached curiosity as the man struggles in his grip. The dog whimpers and Mortarion crushes the man’s neck in his fist. He drops the body carelessly on the ground and turns his attention to the wounded animal.

 

_The boy fought them with a feral wildness the next time they came for him, snarling and biting. He sank his teeth into an arm trying to grab him, clawing at another with ragged nails. One of them landed a hit on him, knocking him headfirst into a wall. Dazed, he tried to keep attacking but they hit him again and he fell to his knees._

_‘You’re going to pay for that, whore.’ A male spat, blood running down a torn face. They shoved him onto his stomach, tearing at his clothes, he writhed under them, still trying to fight even as his left arm was twisted behind his back. He heard the bone break with a sharp clear sound before the pain slammed into him and he gritted his teeth against the scream that rose in his throat. They wrenched his arm harder and he felt jagged bone pierce through his skin, warm blood pouring over his back, and then their hands were on him, inside him, and he couldn't stop screaming._

 

Something wet moves across his face and the sensation is so strange it doesn’t provoke his usual reaction to lash out when touched. Mortarion opens his eyes instead, staring in momentary confusion at the dog licking his face. He almost shoves her off the bed, but the remnants of his nightmare are still clinging to his mind and he can’t bring himself to push the dog away. Her brown eyes watch him without judgement as he buries his face in her warm fur and starts to cry again.


End file.
